Snapshots
by Khell
Summary: A collection of drabbles and other short scenes that aren't long enough to be considered a story or even a one-shot but that I still want to share. Rating might change later. (Also, will feature more characters from the show than just the listed ones.)
1. Chapter 1

**You Better Not Mess With Me**

Note: Set before the start of the TV show

* * *

"Hey, Gorgeous."  
The guy gave her a toothy grin.  
"What are you doing here? With looks like yours you shouldn't have any problems finding a husband."  
Some of the other guys – all guys here, she was the only woman – snickered at that.

Francine straightened. Compete in a men's world, her father had said. Obviously she had to make some things crystal clear right from the start.  
She gave the guy a sweet smile.

"And what are you doing here?" she asked with arched eyebrows. "With a face like that you could build a great career as clown with P.T. Barnum."


	2. Chapter 2

**School's NOT Out**

* * *

It was, he mused, like being back in high school. The first day of your first term at senior high where you fell head over heels for the cheerleader captain. A vision in blonde and with eyes the colour of the winter sky. Unfortunately, she was one of the "cool kids" and you weren't. You were one of the nerds. The geeks. Those she never even noticed.  
Well, maybe if she got to know him a little better …  
Effrom Beaman sighed. No matter how he spun it, Francine Desmond would now and forever be way out of his league.


	3. Chapter 3

**Just Playin' Around**

* * *

And then there was that weekend where they'd had to pose as a newly-wed couple.

"So, did you finally get down to some serious backgammon with her?" Fielder asked with a leery grin as he cornered him.

"No."  
Francine's voice, behind him. Effrom closed his eyes.

Fielder took a step back.  
"No?"

"Effrom prefers Go, and so do I after he showed me how to play it."  
The innuendo was thick in Francine's voice. She stepped closer.  
"You see, Fred, every idiot can play backgammon but it takes a genius to master the many tactics and techniques of Go …"


	4. Chapter 4

**(Not) Exactly What You Think It Is**

Note: Answer to Lanie's challenge to start a story with the words "I thought I saw/heard ..."

* * *

"I thought I heard Francine and you ..."  
Lee suspiciously scanned the motel room. Nothing. No one there except for Effrom Beaman who glared at him with his arms folded across his chest.

"What?" Beaman asked.

"Well … you know … sounded like – uh – Backgammon?"  
Lee made a vague gesture.

"Francine and me? Seriously? You know how ridiculous that sounds?"  
Beaman shook his head and gave a small laugh.

"Then what did I hear?" Lee insisted. "I didn't imagine it."

Beaman dropped his arms and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking quite embarrassed.  
"That was the TV. I zapped through the programs and found the adult channel …"

"Ah."  
Lee nodded.  
"Well, tone it down, will you? These walls are paper-thin …"

"Will do."

Lee gave the room another suspicious look and then left. Beaman slammed the door behind him, locking it. A moment later, the bathroom door opened and Francine stepped out into the room wearing only a set of red lacy lingerie.

"Ridiculous, huh?" she said with a broad grin.

Beaman chuckled.  
"Easier that way."  
He moved over to her and pulled her up against him.  
"Right – where were we?"


	5. Chapter 5

**It's All In the Method**

Note: Thanks to Lanie for the quick beta!

* * *

"Goddamit, Francine."  
Billy slapped his desk with his flat hand. His brow was creased in disapproval.  
"You and Effrom were supposed to _act_ the part of newly-weds, not –"  
He stopped and gestured at them.

Effrom cringed – mentally, only – and opened his mouth to explain but Francine beat him to it.  
She leaned forward, her expression serious, but her eyes were glittering with amusement.

"Ever heard of method acting?" she asked.

Effrom shifted on his seat. He glanced at Smyth who was standing by the window and watching with his arms folded across his chest. Was that a smirk hidden in the corners of his eyes? Impossible.

"Method acting?" Billy repeated, growing slightly louder. " _That's_ what they call it nowadays?"

Francine leaned back again, folded her hands in her lap and said nothing.

"So, Desmond, what do you think of Beaman's _acting_ skills?" Smyth suddenly asked, making Effrom jump. "I mean, it was impossible for me not to notice he's very obviously not lacking in talent and enthusiasm, but certainly he can't have had as many opportunities to hone his skills as, say, the infamous Scarecrow."

Effrom felt the heat rise in his cheeks.  
 _Let me drop dead. Please, please let me drop dead right here, on the spot!_  
He glanced at Francine to see how she was reacting. He didn't know what he had expected. Anger? Embarrassment? Well, there was neither. She just pursed her lips in a thoughtful way and took a moment before she answered.

"Well, that might be true, but judging from what I could witness and comparing it to my previous observations of Scarecrow, I'd say Effrom's definitely going for quality over quantity. And you know me."  
She shrugged and flashed Billy and Smyth a smile.  
"I've always preferred quality over quantity."

Effrom knew that by now his face must be beet red. He silently cursed his bad luck. Not the part where he had been sent on a weekend assignment with Francine. Not the part either where he had found out their cover was to pose as a couple of newly-weds. Not even the, uh, method acting as Francine called it. No, he was thinking exclusively of that part that had landed Smyth, of all people, in the room right next to theirs. If it weren't for that, no one would ever have found out.  
He considered saying something in their defense – or at least in Francine's defense – but he couldn't think of anything.

Billy threw a long-suffering look at Smyth. It made Effrom think of Oliver Hardy. One of those looks he always gave Stan Laurel when Laurel messed up. Then, Billy returned his attention to them.

"Out", he said, pointing at the door. "Both of you. Make yourselves scarce – I don't want to see you again all week."  
A stern look.  
"And no more method acting."

Effrom jumped to his feet and grabbed Francine's chair to pull it back for her as she was getting up. They had just reached the door when Smyth turned to Billy once more.

"Told you so, Melrose. You owe me fifty bucks."

Effrom tore open the door and fled, followed by a softly giggling Francine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Let's Misbehave**

* * *

That proverbial doe caught in the headlights? Effrom Beaman knew exactly how that poor animal must feel because it was exactly how he was feeling right now. He was staring at Lee Stetson, unable to say anything or even blink, while Stetson was staring right back at them. He watched the older agent's gaze flick from the lipstick on his face to his loosened tie to Francine's blouse that was unbuttoned just far enough to allow a glimpse of the powder-blue lace bra she was wearing underneath and back up to their faces. He was putting two and two together and unfortunately, since he wasn't as dumb as his codename of Scarecrow suggested, arrived at the right conclusion. The corners of his mouth twitched as he turned to Francine.

"A storage closet? Seriously?"  
He sounded like he was struggling hard not to laugh.

Francine raised her head a fraction and left her hands exactly where they were – around Effrom's waist – instead of letting go like he had done.  
"Well, Billy said he didn't want to see any 'method acting' from us anymore so we're doing it where he can't see it."  
She nodded at the door.  
"Would you mind getting out and kindly close that door? We're not quite done here."

Stetson made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh. He gave Francine a mock salute and shut the door on them.

Effrom closed his eyes.  
"Francine Desmond, I swear that one day, you're gonna be the death of me."

Francine looked up at him with a big smile.  
"Considering our line of work and my talent for getting myself in trouble – quite possible. So you really can't blame me for wanting to get the most out of this while I still can, right?"

Effrom laughed and leaned down to kiss her. Try as he might he just couldn't be mad at her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Christmas 1987**

Note: Answer to Lanie's challenge to write a one-shot about one of the secondary SMK characters and how they're spending Christmas or New Year's Eve.

* * *

This was, Effrom Beaman thought as he dodged behind a concrete pillar to avoid getting shot, his best Christmas ever. The bullet hit the corner of the pillar. Tiny pieces of concrete shrapnel went flying, one of them cutting his cheek. Good thing he was wearing glasses – at least his eyes were protected.

How often had that thug fired at him? He had lost track and cursed himself for it. How often had he been told to be mindful of such things? You couldn't go after an adversary when you didn't know whether he had any bullets left. That kind of thing might kill you faster than you could say "Freeze!"

Effrom peered around the pillar and quickly withdrew his head when the other guy took another shot at him. The next thing he heard was the click of a hammer into an empty chamber and a soft curse in Russian.

 _Now or never._

He dodged around the pillar, sprinted to where the Russian guy was hunkered down between two cars, across the parking deck of the garage, and kicked his gun from his hand just as he was about to snap a new magazine into it. The Russian guy sprang to his feet with another curse. Effrom didn't give him a chance to act. He drove his fist into the Russian's face with as much force as he could muster. The Russian crashed to the floor like a felled tree.

Effrom winced and shook his hand. He'd have to work on this some more but for now it was good enough. He took the Russian's gun and the magazine the guy had dropped, loaded the gun and put it away, making sure the safety was on. He didn't want it to go off in his pocket. Then he cuffed the Russian's hands behind his back, dragged him over to the wall and leaned him against it in a sitting position.

Oh yes, this definitely was a much better way to spend Christmas than his usual marathon of all his favourite Christmas movies and ordering in food because he didn't want to have to bother with cooking. Spending Christmas with the family only worked every now and then since his mother had moved halfway across the country to live with his oldest sister and her family. This year, it hadn't, which was why he had been available on short notice for this assignment here. Which was why, within the last thirty minutes, he had been shot at, had been chasing Russians through what felt like half of D.C. on foot – it had only been a few blocks but by the time they had reached this parking garage his lungs had been on fire and he had made a mental note to add a daily running session to his list of New Year's resolutions to build up stamina – had almost been run over by a car and shot at again. Oh, and had in all likelihood hurt his hand but that didn't matter. None of this mattered. This still was his best Christmas ever because –

"Did you get him?" he heard his partner's voice behind him.

He turned around and stepped aside to reveal the knocked-out Russian.

Francine gave him an appreciative not.  
"Well done."

Not nearly as well as she, Effrom thought. She was the one hauling around a bear of a guy about twice her size who seemed thoroughly intimidated by her.

"Let's get them back to the Agency", she said.

Effrom turned back to the Russian to shake him awake and finally did allow that huge, shit-eating grin to spread over his face that he had been holding back until now.

It was Christmas, he was on an assignment that really did require some actual field work, Francine was here – and for once he had not made a complete fool of himself in front of her.

Oh yes, life couldn't possibly be any better.


End file.
